


I Love You

by orphan_account



Series: Till My Dying Days [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Please read the notes of each chapter!, that will contain the trigger warnings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 20:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10647015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Alexander, the idiot that he is, drinks one of Thomas’ potions, though it isn’t exactly his fault. A lot of problems arise from there.





	I Love You

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter contains:  
> \- Blood  
> \- Slight non-con (Alexander says some bad stuff due to his illness.)  
> \- Hinted at sexual content

Alexander, also known as a vampiric mess, laid in Thomas’ bed, sweating and tossing and turning, whispering a few hushed words before falling silent again. What he’d done, Thomas didn’t know, but he was worried, especially since his house was full of different chemicals which could possibly kill his boyfriend.

Thomas tried his best to look through his cabinets to see which bottle had been opened, which contents had been spilt, but his eyes continued to dart to the tossing mess that was Alex. His eyes fell along two bottles on the counter, though both were opened.

"He's not that stupid," Thomas muttered, though it sounded more like a plea as he picked up the bottles, trying to decide his which bottle did what. "A sleeping potion and--" His sentence stopped as he read the name of the other concoction.

Poison.

Alexander shifted on the bed again, groaning slightly. His eyes opened just enough to see someone stood near the bed he had collapsed him, albeit he quickly closed his eyes once the room had started spinning again.

“Jem?” He asked, though his voice was slurred. “Is that you?

Thomas stared down at Alexander, sighing slightly. This was not the time to feel jealous, not that he was, of course. He put his hand on Alexander's burning up body, sighing again, though this time it, somehow, sounded more panicked.

“Hamilton, listen to me. Which bottle did you drink from?” Thomas asked and when Alexander didn’t reply, he added, “What colour.”

“Huh?” Alexander asked, eyes opening before quickly closing again. “Red? Or something… Maybe yellow? Or--” He cut himself off with a cough, and decided to stop trying to talk. Thomas was starting to worry. Well, more than he already had been.

"Alexander, please. Red or yellow? If I don't know, I can't help." Thomas tried to hold the bottle in front of Alex, hoping he could see but Alexander's eyes were shut tight. “Please?”

“It was the red one.”

“How certain are you of that?”

“Like, pretty certain,” Alexander muttered, before frowning. “I love you, Tommy. I know you hate,” A cough. “Me and I hate you too but I love you. “Another cough. “At the same time.”

"Thank god," Thomas said, ignoring the confessions entirely, perching on the side of the bed. He would come back to the subject later. Alexander, having seized the opportunity, tugged on his cloak, attempting to pull him closer.

"I thought you said you could help me..." Alexander whined as Thomas shook him off.

“Oh please, you'll be fine. Though, if you were human, you would be choking on your own blood by now and, as much I would have loved to see that, James would have killed me." Thomas stood up, quickly grabbing a bottle and two powders from his cabinet. He mixed them together in under thirty seconds, glad that he didn’t have to wait a certain time for the potion to cook, before handing the flask to Alexander. “But, I suppose, if you really can’t handle it, drink this-- Wait, not the whole bottle!

 

* * *

 

Thomas was stirring his cauldron, clearly annoyed. If someone had walked in it might have looked like a stereotypical witch from a children's book, though Thomas wasn't mixing up some elixir or a stupid, poisoned apple. Nope, he was cooking plain, old soup for his arrogant, stupid, primitive--

"How long does soup take?"

Boyfriend.

Alexander, who had awoken to the smell of food, sat up on the bed, blinking confusedly.

“Not much longer now, Lexy.” Thomas said, before sneering, “Though, if you’re that desperate, you can go drink from a few random bottles of my cabinet.”

“Fuck off,” Alexander muttered, before collapsing in the bed again. “I’m cold.”

"I'd expect the undead vampire to be used to that." Thomas walked over with a bowl of soup, handing it to the freezing Alexander. "Then again, I wouldn't expect one to say they loved me last night on their deathbed."

Alexander, ignoring Thomas’ remark, downed the soup quickly, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand once he had done.

“Where’s Jemmy?” Alexander asked. “They never leave us alone in the house together. They know I’ll probably kill you or something.”

Thomas glared at Alexander.

“Yes, I’m sure you’re in a position to kill me right now,” Thomas said sarcastically before leaning closer to poke Alexander’s sides. Alexander slapped his hand away, pouting slightly.

“I could take you anytime.”

“Of course you could, Hamilton. Bite me...” Thomas muttered. “Actually, I’m sure you’ve been dying to since you love me.” His tone changed into one of mocking and Alexander frowned, quickly blinking again. “What? Have nothin’ to say?”

Alexander stared at him a few seconds before standing, swaying on his feet for a few seconds before shaking his head, going to leave the room.

“Where do you think you’re going, Hamilton?” Thomas asked, and Alexander shoved past him.

“Fuck off, asshole.”

“So rude, Hamilton. After all, you came to my house and drank my possessions and don’t even give me the correct respect as I take care of you. Not to mention your sudden love-filled confession.” Thomas said, his voice raised, as he grabbed Hamilton by his shoulder, "Besides you’re too weak to leave now."

“You let me go now,” Alexander growled, baring his teeth, his eyes switching to black which was a rare occurrence. Thomas took a step back, his own eyes wide. He hadn’t expected such a harsh reaction from Alexander.

“Fine.” Thomas hissed. “Go.”

Alexander nodded curtly before pushing past him. His eyes, soon after his departure, changed back to their normal brown as he took a deep breath. He was angry and for a good reason. He hadn’t meant to have confessed and, truth be told, he hadn’t even known himself. God, he was an idiot.

He sighed, reaching the Forest. It was a calming place to be, especially if you had a cat by your side. He rested against a tree, a hand stroking Cheese, Thomas’ stupidly named pet. Why did he have to go into a blood thirst at Thomas’ house? It hadn’t happened in years, and the last it had happened, at least he had his brother to care for him.

Cheese mewled at him as he stopped stroking her. Alexander shoved himself to his feet, sighing again. Why did he always have to fuck up the good things in life?

 

 

* * *

 

Thomas was officially worried. It had been a week and a half since he had last seen Hamilton and, according to James, they hadn’t seen him either. What Thomas had said hadn’t been that serious, had it? He was, after all, just joking around. He hadn’t meant to cause offence. Well, he had, but not on that grand of a scale. After all, he did care for Hamilton as much as a boyfriend should, which was a lot. Thomas just wasn’t one to show his feelings; he didn’t know how to.

So, he had tracked down Alexander’s apartment, thanks to a member of the Supernatural community who happened to see Alexander walk home one day. Thomas gently knocked, though received no reply, so decided to open the door which was, suspiciously, already unlocked.

Thomas glanced around the room, taking in the messy sight, frowning slightly. There was one singular desk in the corner which had piles and piles of books on top of it, with names like, ‘A Guide To The Supernatural.’ and ‘Vampiric Illnesses.’ both of which looked to be annotated. There was an open mini fridge, too, which sat in the corner with the door open, revealing jar after jar of blood. Patches of said blood looked to be spilt on the floor, along with a few jars which had been thrown aside, smashing on the floor. Twenty odd jars seemed to be open and emptied, and only two or three remained untouched.

A bed without a frame sat in the corner, a thin blanket neatly folded at the bottom. Alexander sat in the middle of it, legs crossed, eyes black, desperately drinking from one of the blood jars.

"Holy shit, Hamilton," Thomas said, his eyes wide and locked on the animal-like creature that was his boyfriend. He slowly took a step forward. locking the door behind him, hoping no one would be up this late to walk in on this scene.

But Alexander, ignoring what Thomas had said or, perhaps, not hearing it in his blood craze, continued downing the drink, throwing the bottle aside when it was empty. He stood to grab the next, but locked eyes with Thomas, then he grinned, revealing a set of sharpened teeth. Alexander was in feeding mode, and it seemed like Thomas was to be his victim.

Thomas, who was regretting locking the door, slowly held his hands in front of him as a sign of, “I won’t hurt you; please don’t hurt me.”

“Ham-- Alexander. What’s wrong? Why are you--” Thomas froze, thinking back to the books on Alexander’s desk. _Vampiric Illnesses_. The Blood Thirst. “Alexander you’re not in control. Please, calm down.”

“Come here,” Alexander said quietly, though it was clearly a command. “Now.” He hissed when Thomas hesitated. “I want to taste you.”

“What makes you think I’m going to let you “taste me?”” Thomas scoffed. He had to act brave; shying in a corner would only make it easier for Alexander and that was the last thing Thomas wanted.

“Because I asked you to,” Alexander replied, a grin spreading across his face but it wasn’t his normal smile. It was too psychotic. Alexander, in his usual state, would hate himself if he could see what he was doing. “And, if you don’t hurry up, I’m going to stop asking and start taking.”

"What makes you think you're in a position to threaten me?" Thomas said, taking careful steps towards Hamilton. He needed to get out, and the only way that would happen is by either killing Alexander, which wasn’t really an option, or knocking him out. He started thinking of ways he could perform the latter. “What would Jemmy think of you?"

“I don’t care what James would think of me!” Alexander hissed, and Thomas’ eyes widened. Alexander never called them James; it was always a nickname, never ‘James’. “My throat is burning and I couldn't care less what anyone thinks of me.”

Thomas rushed out a quick summoning spell, making a book fly into his hand. Then, continuing to make one of the stupidest mistakes of his life, flung himself at Alexander, knocking them both to the floor. He wrapped a hand around his boyfriend’s throat, the other hand holding onto the book. He was just about to strike Alexander before he made the mistake of looking at him. He saw the black eyes and how empty and lustful they were and a realisation dawned on him.

This wasn’t his boyfriend. This wasn’t his Alexander. This was a monster, a vampire, with an illness. He wasn’t in control of his body, and Thomas could hurt him.

Alexander grinned at him, though it wasn’t kind, no, not at all. Thomas had hesitated too long, and Alexander took advantage of that.

He flipped them, before pulling Thomas up and slamming him against the wall. Alexander shoved his head back, grabbing Thomas by the hair, before leaning it pressing his teeth to Thomas’ neck where his pulse hammered away.

And then he stopped, pulling away slightly.

“Do you want this?” Alexander asked, and Thomas swore he heard a hint of his Alexander in there. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” Alexander paused for a few seconds and, when Thomas didn’t reply, he started to move away.

But Thomas, seeing it was more Alexander than the vampire who had control of him, grabbed his cheeks, pulling Alexander close enough to his throat for it to be cut. As soon as the skin broke, as soon as a drop of blood escaped Thomas’ small wound, Alexander was gone again, sucking on the small cut, not trying to be careful.

Thomas would be lying if he said this wasn’t a turn on.

He tilted his head back further and moaned, quiet and breathy, though Alexander still heard it.

“What was that, Tommy?” He asked, his eyes black once again, his wide, toothy grin back once again. “Did you moan for me?”

“I--” Thomas started, though cut himself off with another moan as Alexander licked the wound.

Alexander sucked at the wound still, though started to lessen the amount of blood he was draining. The burn in his throat was starting to fade. He pulled away for a second, tugging off his shirt before taking a step back to admire a breathless Thomas. That only lasted a second.

“Shirt off.” He ordered. Thomas nodded, panting, as he lifted off his shirt.

"Is my neck not enough?" He asked, not sure if he was taunting him or if it was a legitimate question.

“Don’t you want more?” Alexander asked and though it was worded like a taunt, a serious question lied underneath it. He was starting to come back to himself, come back to his right mind, and now thought about his actions instead of being controlled by the thirst for blood.

Thomas laughed slightly, smiling. He was glad his Alexander was back.

"Are you sure you're not asking yourself that?" Thomas took a step forward, practically breathing on Alex's ear. "But yes, I do want more."

“And I’m happy to provide.”

  

* * *

 

 The first thing Alexander did when he woke up was throw up. He sat bolt upright, eyes wide and brown, and threw up onto the floor. It was red and runny which was to be expected considering all he consumed last night was blood.

“Are you coughing up blood?” Thomas said, voice raised and alarmed. He was by Alexander’s side in seconds, rubbing his back. Alexander, however, shook his head, though Thomas was technically correct.

“‘S not mine,” Alexander replied, blood dribbling down his chin and, eventually, onto his neck. He attempted to wipe it away, though it just smudged. “I drank too much last night.”

“Are you feeling better?” Thomas asked, concerned, and Alexander was surprised at the emotion in his voice.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Alexander replied. “Are you?” Thomas nodded, though Alexander didn’t notice as he rambled on.

“I mean, because I got really possessive. I didn’t mean anything I said, alright? Please don’t hate me for it. You know what a Blood Thirst is, right? It’s where a Vampire has to drink blood and it’s like a drink-or-die kinda thing. My throat was burning and I was desperate and I really didn’t mean what I said or anything. I understand if you don’t want to talk to me again. It was really fucked up of me to do. And I apologise and will leave you alone if you want--”

“Alexander,” Thomas said, cutting him off. “Shut up.” Before Alexander could reply, Thomas kissed him before pulling away abruptly, cringing. “You taste of blood.”

“Wait, you’re not mad at me? I did and said some pretty fucked up stuff.” Alexander replied.

“Well,” Thomas replied. “It wasn’t exactly your fault; you were just… Ill. And anyways, I love you too.” No one could keep the grin of Alexander’s face as he heard the last few words.

“I love you too, asshole.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I wrote this with a lot of help from @notmuchartart who helped so fucking much. Couldn't have written this without her.
> 
> Talk to me on Tumblr: @hvmiltoon


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